


One-on-One: Injury

by lovehugsandcandy



Series: One-on-One [4]
Category: Ride or Die (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:34:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25221736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovehugsandcandy/pseuds/lovehugsandcandy
Summary: Colt gets hurt on the court.(this one-shot contains injury-blood and hospitals are included)
Relationships: Colt Kaneko/Main Character (Ride or Die)
Series: One-on-One [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1799545
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	One-on-One: Injury

Ellie threw the car in park, grabbing everything she needed _-ticket, can’t forget the ticket_ \- before darting out of the car and into the raucous arena.

She was late, devastatingly late. Her lab had run over, and then she needed to go over some research with her advisor, and _then_ the traffic had been brutal as she left the city, inching along the bridge as her fingertips tapped out a nervous beat on the steering wheel. She was so late that, when she slid into her court-side seat, it was only minutes before the end of the third quarter.

It was a close game, teams well matched and battling hard for every loose ball; she saw the tension in the cut of Colt’s jaw, in every pointed verbal jab at an opponent. Rolling her eyes, she frowned as he got into it yet again after running down a loose ball at the opposition baseline. The roar of the hungry crowd obscured their voices, and she was too far away anyways, was only able to watch Colt’s mouth move around words that were obviously rude and downright offensive. She shook her head. She was in love with an _idiot_.

Thankfully, he stopped, turning to trudge to the baseline; she was almost proud. He had been working so hard on staying out of altercations, trying to walk away instead of falling back on a lifetime of blazing fists, but she noticed movement behind him. His opponent had apparently had enough. It was almost slow motion, the tensing of biceps, the lifting of hands; she gasped. Colt had turned his back- _he couldn’t see it coming_ -and the shout died in her throat as he was blindsided, a cheap shove pitching him forward into the metal post, hard. The glass above them clang and shook, and she cringed as Colt fell forward, landing hard onto the key.

She stood, flying out of her seat so she could try to calm Colt down when he stood again… but he didn’t. He should have bounced up, he always did, flying into a rage and starting yet another bench-clearing brawl that ended with him getting ejected and her corralling him out of the arena. She waited, the whole arena waited, the shot clock waited, everything waited, but he just lay there, statue-still, prone on the floor.

She blinked, heart in her throat, waiting for him to jump up, retaliate, do anything, but he didn’t move. No one did, for seconds that felt like hours, until the medical staff raced onto the court. Seeing them leap into action jump-started her mind and her feet quickly followed, dashing forward toward the immobile figure dropped on the court.

She raced onto the floor, dodging security in a desperate sprint to get to his side. He was flat on the ground, eerily immobile for someone who never stopped running his mouth. When she dropped to his side, the trainer was already there, her careful fingers supporting his neck as she expertly turned him over.

His eyes blinked, bleary, darting about the lights overhead but never focusing on one.

“Colt? Baby?”

Heavy footsteps pounded behind her and a meaty hand grabbed her shoulder before she heard Logan calling out, “No, that’s his girl, stop, stop!” The hand fell back, but she didn’t care, focused only on how Colt’s eyes were rolling around, each disjointed from the other in a macabre display that made her stomach turn.

“Colt?” She reached over to cradle his head but pulled back at the first touch. It was wet, tacky, and the blood that covered her fingers made her stomach turn. “Colt?”

“Ellie,” he whispered, weakly.

“I’m right here.”

He reached up, trailing trembling fingers over her cheekbone. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” She chuckled darkly; judging by the dizzying spin of his eyes, he couldn’t see anything. “When you gonna fucking marry me?”

She froze, jaw dropping, as his hand fell to the ground and his head turned, light fading from his eyes right before they closed, blood continuing to pool out onto the court.

“Colt?” Her hands traced his cheeks, his hair, running down his arms, trying desperately to rouse him. “Colt?”

But he didn’t stir.

He didn’t move when she started crying. Or when they strapped him to the stretcher. Or as they wheeled him to the ambulance, entire arena eerily silent. The only thing she heard was the squeak of the wheels as he was rolled away to the waiting ambulance.

And the only thing she saw through her tears were her bloody hand prints, vibrant red on the parquet.

~~~~~

Ellie had just shut her eyes, head lolling on his shoulder and taking comfort in the heat radiating from his muscled form when he finally stirred, letting out a pained groan as his muscles twitched. 

“Colt?” She leaned up on her elbow to study his face. “You awake?”

“Mmh... why are you yelling?”

“I’m not?”

He blinked, finally opening his eyes and glancing around, taking in the white walls, the worry lines etched over her face. “What… what happened?”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“I was at the game? We were up by one and I told that punk-ass motherfucker from Hartfield that his jump shot was as ugly as his face and then…” He turned his head, grimacing. “What the hell happened?”

“He pushed you into the pole at the baseline.” She took his hand, intertwining their fingers. “You hit your head, and they took you away in an ambulance.”

He gnawed at his lower lip, processing the new information. “Huh… Did we win?”

“Seriously?!? That’s what you care about?”

“... Yeah?”

“No. You lost by three. It also took 20 minutes to mop your blood off the court.”

“Glad I was out for that. Anything else I miss?”

She blushed. “Um...”

“What?”

She took a deep breath, his earlier question echoing through her head. Colt had always been certain about their relationship, even when she had doubts over the distance or their career paths or the incompatibility of a life on the court and a life in the books. Regardless of the chaos around them, he was steadfast in his adoration of her, fully committed to their shared future with an intensity that stole her breath. “You…” She smiled, eyeing the gauze wrapped around his hair, still matted from dried blood. “You missed the doctor saying that you knocked your brain around pretty good. You got a hell of a concussion.”

“Mmh…” he murmured, fingertips walking down her spine before cupping her ass and pulling, sprawling her thigh over the scratchy hospital sheets covering his hips. “Lucky you don’t like me for my brain then.”

She chuckled against his cheek, finger turning his chin to meet his lips; the touch was soft at first, happiness bubbling through her lips into his. He deepened the kiss, one hand tilting her jaw while the other crept searching fingers up her thigh, when movement at the door made her freeze.

“Excuse me.” Ellie turned; the doctor was awkwardly hovering at the door, fingers tight around a clipboard. She would have been embarrassed, but the relief flooding her veins left no room for any other emotion. “We need to take Mr. Kaneko for a CAT scan.”

“Sure thing. I’ll go call your mom, ok?” 

“Yeah.” She dropped one last, chaste kiss on his lips before standing and maneuvering past machines beeping dull, rhythmic tones. She was pulling out her phone when he spoke again. “Hey, El?” He was drawn and uncertain when she glanced up. 

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for staying.”

She blinked, opening and closing her mouth before replying, “Always.”


End file.
